


and to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die

by babykanima



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Other, still not over this episode tbh, will never be over this episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1334125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykanima/pseuds/babykanima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The realisation hits her like freight train. Okay, she’s going to die but it’s okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die

**Author's Note:**

> i am still absolutely devastated by this whole episode.
> 
> come and [ visit me ](http://clintssecretfamily.tumblr.com/)

Allison Argent is seventeen-forever when she dies in the arms of the person she loves the most.

Scott’s warm like he’s always been warm and she’d missed this _so much_.

She'd tried not to, really, had seen him with the new girl and had spent time with Isaac to try and stop herself from loving him but no amount of make-outs and body painting with Isaac could’ve made her forget what being in Scott’s arms _felt_ like.

They felt like coming home.

She’s the head of the Argent family and her dying means her six year old cousin gets the job—she hopes the girl who looks so much like a younger version of her keeps to the new code instead of the old one. Her _‘nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-même_ ’. She thinks if that’s her life’s work, if that’s all Allison Argent left to the world, it’s a pretty good legacy.

Nobody else would burn because of her family.

Her stomach bleeds and her hands automatically go to keep the wound closed, keep the blood and life from draining out of her.

Kate would be angry, she thinks. Dying to save a werewolf.

But maybe her mom would be proud.

She hopes her mommy is proud of her.

The dark haired girl in the purple dress focuses on Scott’s voice. His beautiful voice and his beautiful eyes and she’s _so glad_.

She’s so glad she got to meet him.

Her beautiful Scott.

She hopes they’ve saved Lydia and that Stiles is going to be okay. She’s going to miss her best friend so much.

She hopes—she hopes her dad doesn’t break over this latest blow. He has nobody left to hold him up. She so proud of him, still, and she’s glad she got to say that. She hopes he rises up as one of the last of them.

One of the good ones.

She sobs even though she’s not in pain, because she’s _scared_. She didn’t want to die.

Not again.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But it’s okay.

The realisation hits her like freight train. Okay, she’s going to die but it’s _okay_.

Maybe it was fate.

Allison Argent dies when she’s seventeen-forever and she’s cold and scared but not in pain.

The last time she’d died, the time where she’d drowned and then woken up hours later with a darkness in her heart that seemed to consume her thoughts, made her think of murder and violence and fire, she’d been in a lot of pain.

Her brain had felt as though it would explode right through her skull and her teeth had chattered so hard she’d bitten through her lip and she thinks, she thinks maybe this time is better.

Even though it’s permanent.

Maybe especially because it’s permanent.

 “I’m in the arms of my first love. The first person I’ve ever loved. The person I’ll always love.”

* * *

 When she opens her eyes it’s quiet and calm and she’s not cold anymore, not scared or crying.

She wakes filled with a sense of purpose and feeling like she’s had a good twelve hours.

She feels like her old self, her pre-sacrifice self.

Her pre-hunter self.

It hadn’t really hit her how much she’d changed since, well, everything.

She looks around and is reminded of seeing the nemeton in her own mind because everything is so _bright_ , so clean-looking and she thinks maybe it’s time to grab her bow, she feels like she should be prepared for something—only her bow isn’t there and she must have left it behind with her body.

She wonders if Scott is still holding her.

She feels a pang of sadness that she never got to perfect her silver arrowhead but then thinks, maybe the imperfect rendering was so very _her_.

Allison Argent, the girl who tried so hard to be so strong.

The girl who was so very imperfect.

There’s another girl there, suddenly, a girl with wild blonde hair and her hands in a leather jacket and when Allison sees her she smirks, “Took you long enough.” And she could be talking about how long it took before she was noticed or how long it took her to die.

Both feel equally too short and too-long an amount of time.

She frowns lightly, “Erica?”

The werewolf continues to smirk, “Who else were you expecting?”

And it’s a good question because she doubts she’s going to the same place Kate and Gerard went ( _hopes_ , god she hopes she’s not going there, hopes so hard) and maybe she won’t even be going the same place as her mom, her mommy who’d tucked her into bed and played dress-up with her and who’d tried to kill an innocent boy—a boy Allison loved with everything she had in her, loved so hard it hurt.

She didn’t know who she’d expected, didn’t know she’d _expected_ anybody in the first place.

But this?

She hadn’t wanted this.

Erica Reyes should not be forced to be Allison’s welcoming party.

Not after what she’d done to her.

The blonde haired girl huffs loudly at Allison’s silence, just as impatient as when she’d been alive and she feels a familiar pang of sadness for her part in everything, “Coming? Boyd’s waiting for me.” She hints, throwing a thoughtful look over her shoulder to something she can’t see.

“You’ve got some people waiting for you, too.”

“I do?”

The question bursts out before she can stop it and the other girl blinks before rolling her eyes, “Of _course_ you do. Everybody does.”

Allison frowns at the thought, “But. . .” She takes a deep breath, raises her chin because she will not cower from the facts, “Argent’s don’t deserve to be-“ She pauses, “ _Here_.” Wherever here was. Wherever good and innocent people like Erica and Boyd got to go when they died.

Erica looks sad for a moment, so quick and then it’s gone, “We were just a bunch of teenagers, Allison.” She shakes her head, curls spilling over her shoulders like that day in the library. “We couldn’t handle it.”

And Erica sounds so old, so wise and strong and Allison wants to crumble at her feet and cry. Maybe this was the woman Erica would’ve grown into if not for her family.

She chokes on a sob, “I said that once.”

The other girl grins, “I know. You were right.” She looks solemnly at Allison, “We shouldn’t have _had_ to handle it.”

Her heart feels like it’s breaking all over again, the wound in her stomach is nothing compared to this. She’d wondered to herself, late at night when she was alone and it was quiet, what she’d say to Erica if she saw her again, what she’d say to Boyd if she could muster up the strength to walk up to him in the hall at school.

In every single imagining, she’d started with, _I’m sorry._

She steels herself, the way she’d been forced to learn how to do in the past few months, when ‘head of the family’ became less of a suggestion and more a reality she had to face and accept if she’d wanted things to change. “I’m so sorry, Erica. I’m so sorry for what I did to you.”

The blonde is quiet for a long time before she smiles, and it’s not fake or smug or crazy like it had been in life, but rather quiet.

Self-assured.

Erica looks beautiful when she smiles.

 “I know.” She sounds a bit fond even as she rolls her eyes again, which is stupid and makes no sense because they’d always hated each other, hadn’t they? Hated each other over stupid, petty things. “I’m psychic, remember?”

And just like that, it’s done.

This being dead thing wasn’t so bad.

Allison Argent takes Erica Reyes’ hand for the first time in the somewhere-else. It could be Heaven or Hell, she didn’t know.

She did know that she wasn’t cold or scared or in pain.

She was happy.

She was free.


End file.
